


Kitchen Space

by CryptidBane (Impetus)



Series: Lunchtime Shorts [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Cooking Class, Drabble, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15083798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impetus/pseuds/CryptidBane
Summary: Alec really doesn’t know why this is so hard.Prompt from @discoveries:Alec is used to excelling. It's a shame then, that he's the worst student in his adult cooking class.





	Kitchen Space

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the prompt, Ver!
> 
> Also as a general note: nothing actually happens in this fic. This is just for practice and fun!

Alec doesn’t know who Julienne is, but he hates them. 

With a resigned sigh, he rescues the intrepid piece of radish from where it’s tumbled into his sink. He tosses it into the bin set to the left of his station.

The heat is on full blast, and there’s a trickle of sweat running down Alec’s back that he’s trying very hard to ignore. He glances around the room, ignoring its white walls and the colorful food factoid posters in favor of the blue analog clock hanging above the cooking teacher. Alec lets out a low moan of frustration.

Another fifty minutes.

“Now once your carrots and radish are all about matchstick size, go ahead and start soaking them,” the instructor says from the front of the room. With a smooth movement of their knife, they scoop up their vegetables and plop them into the mixture of salt, vinegar, and sugar. 

Everyone standing around Alec moves to do the same with their small piles of julienned orange and white. Alec stares at his wooden chopping board, misshapen chunks staring right back, full of defiance and judgment. He’s lucky there’s no one else in the back row, or they’d likely being judging him alongside his unfortunate vegetables.

“Fuck you,” Alec mutters under his breath. He fumbles with a piece of carrot he’s haplessly hacked into a miniature Statue of Liberty. After lining it up with the blade of his knife, Alec moves to cut when the door to the kitchen slams inward. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” The stranger breathes, voice tight as he catches his breath. 

“No harm done. We’ve just started preparing the pickled vegetables for our sandwiches. Go ahead and take any spare station.” 

With a firm nod and a sheepish smile, the man hurries to the island countertop to Alec’s right. He pulls off his jacket and scarf, cheeks pink from the frigid New York winds, and exchanges them for the standard issue apron.

There’s a series of clinking noises as the newcomer slides a set of rings off and sets them by the sink faucet before washing his hands.

Alec only realizes he’s staring when the man catches his gaze and shoots him a blinding smile.

“Sorry to interrupt. My name is Magnus,” the stranger,  _ Magnus _ , says. Sweeping hair and kohl liner sends Alec’s stomach into a fit of butterflies. Alec shuffles in an attempt to block Magnus’ view of his cutting board before opening his mouth.

“I’m Alec,” he says. “It’s uh, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Magnus winks, turning back to the mound of ingredients in front of him. He squints at the recipe detailed on the front white board and reaches for the salt. His nails are painted a dark green.

Alec swallows heavily and resumes his task. He mangles the remaining vegetables and dumps them unceremoniously into his vinegar mixture. The sound of even chopping starts up from his right. Alec glances over to watch.

Magnus finishes cutting his carrots and moves onto his radishes, his knife work clean and consistent. With a satisfied nod, he starts the pickling process and looks back up at the board. 

Alec follows his gaze and realizes that the instructor is already working on seasoning the pork and preparing the oven. He doesn’t know when that happened, but now he has to catch up. 

Then, there’s a polite cough. Golden-brown eyes sweep over Alec’s working space.

“Looks like we’re both a little behind. I’ve made this before—would you like to maybe work on it together?” Magnus asks, voice light and airy. Alec looks down at the intimidating slab of pork, back up at Magnus’s face, and nods gratefully.

Magnus chuckles and walks over to stand at Alec’s side. The small countertop is just wide enough to accommodate them both, and Alec can feel the warmth of Magnus’s arm against his own.

Alec looks at the clock. Forty three minutes left. 

“So the trick is to balance the flavors,” Magnus says, interrupting Alec’s thoughts. Alec takes in the hint of glitter running along the man’s handsome face and sucks in a breath. Magnus smiles at him and his heart jumps in his chest.

Forty two minutes now, Alec thinks. Magnus leans over to whisper a joke in Alec’s ear, and suddenly forty two minutes doesn’t seem like enough.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> I want to improve my productivity rate and get some writing practice—so I decided to work on drabbles during my lunch break! If you have any Malec requests or prompts you’d like me to consider, please hit me up on tumblr or on twitter @CryptidBane!


End file.
